


Coffee

by Iolanfg



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Facebook: Mystrade is our Division Fic Prompts, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:07:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22993684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iolanfg/pseuds/Iolanfg
Summary: After an exhausting day, Greg orders a coffee from Sally and gets what he really wanted.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes & Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 9
Kudos: 99
Collections: Mystrade is our Division





	Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> It all belongs to Doyle, Moffat and Gatiss.  
> Written for the Facebook group Mystrade is our division: writers and readers: a fic with the word Coffee.  
> English is not my first language. This was written with the help of the translator. I'm sorry for any mistakes.

Despite his fatigue, Gregory Lestrade could not help but smile slightly at the sound of the door opening and the slight sigh that followed, but he did not move the arm that rested over his eyes, nor did he move from the sofa in his dimly lit office where he had been lying trying to relieve the incipient headache.   
It had been a long, stressful day.   
Not that they were not usually.   
He could deal with international assassins, mobsters, bureaucrats, state secrets and corrupt politicians.   
He could deal with Sherlock Holmes and his childish games.  
He could deal with an unfaithful ex-wife who called him up for the most absurd reasons to end up talking about "the good old days".  
He could deal with the bewildering Mycroft Holmes and the strange relationship, or no relationship, between them.  
But dealing with everything at the same time, on the same day, and on the same place, was a bit much. The last thing he needed at the time was a lecture from his sergeant about his life and his bad habits.  
\- I'm fine, Sally. I just need to rest my eyes. And a coffee, maybe.  
There was no answer, but after a moment the door closed again. When it opened again, the smell of freshly brewed coffee flooded the office.  
\- Thank you, Sally. You're an angel. A short break and a good cup of coffee is all I need to get me going again.  
The incredulous snorting sound he received in response made him smile again, he didn't need to look up to guess at the young woman's expression.  
\- Seriously, it's just... it's been a long day. A murdered Russian mobster in an ambassador's bed would have been hard enough to bear without Sherlock throwing deductions and insults around and my ex-wife trying to get attention on the phone...   
With his eyes still closed under his arm, he noticed the drink being placed on the table in front of the sofa. He smiled wistfully.   
\- Mycroft was there too. The whole time.  
He noticed how the breathing next to him stopped slightly, before he heard the soft exhalation. Greg raised his hand on his stomach to interrupt Sally's well-known speech before she could begin it.  
\- Yes, I know what you're going to say. "Talk to he." But it's not that easy... I mean, I can talk to him. I talk to him a lot. We talk about Sherlock, and work, and politics, and things I couldn't tell you without getting us both deported to Alaska. We laugh and he seems comfortable and relaxed, and I think he feels comfortable with me, that there's a connection between us, and that maybe he wants something else, too. And suddenly the phone rings or a car passes by or Sherlock appears and it's the distant and professional Mycroft Holmes again, as if he suddenly remembers who he is, a fancy and powerful guy, and that I'm just a simple policeman from the Yard. It baffles me.   
The exhalation of the figure kneeling beside him was slow and gentle.  
\- You see how it's not so easy? What am I supposed to tell him?   
"Hi, Mycroft. Would you like to have coffee with me to talk about my stupid crush, how I want to see you again every time we say goodbye, how I'm afraid you'll find out how I feel and drive me away, explaining to me why a smart, elegant, important guy like you would never notice a guy like me?" What do you think he'd say to me?  
Greg bit his lip, wishing he didn't sound as pathetic as he felt. Silence fell in the office and when he was about to make a joke that would lighten the mood a bit, the person next to him spoke, causing his spine to freeze while his eyes opened in shock.  
\- He... would say that he prefers tea, brandy or whisky to coffee. Perhaps a dinner and a good wine at this time of night. I'd say there's a lot of reasons why a funny, smart, generous, patient guy like you should never look at a guy like him. I'd say he's stupidly in love with you, too. I would say that he is always looking for an excuse to see you and that he gets scared every time he does, that he suddenly remembers how he is and realizes once again how extraordinary you are, and is afraid to let his feelings show and to that you run from him, or that you hate him.  
Unable to speak, Greg sat down wondering if he was dreaming.  
\- You... You're not Sally...  
\- No.  
\- You've never been Sally...  
Mycroft raised an eyebrow, funny.  
\- I've been a lot of things in my life. On one memorable occasion, I was even Lady Bracknell. But no, I'm afraid I've never been Miss Donovan...  
\- Mycroft, what are you doing here?  
The politician's expression changed suddenly, looking insecure and frightened, lowering his eyes to the ground. Greg refrained from hugging him.   
\- I... I had a case report and...  
Greg's hand caressing his cheek made him look up, pressing his face against his hand. Mycroft sighed, defeated.  
\- I looked for an excuse to see you. Then you asked me for coffee and... Well, to Sally, but... I'm sorry if I made you think that...  
Greg smiled.  
\- Shh, it's okay. I think this is the best conversation non-conversation I've ever had with Sally.   
Mycroft looked up, staring at his own, both of them expressing a thousand emotions without words.  
\- So, would you prefer a brandy now...  
\- Maybe after dinner with a good wine?  
\- That sounds perfect.  
Greg's hand slipped from his cheek to his neck, bringing it closer to him. The kiss was soft and slow. Neither of them could stop smiling as they parted. Mycroft got up, dragging Greg with him.  
\- So, a dinner, a drink and a conversation about how inappropriate we are for each other and how stupid it is to fall in love?  
\- Yeah, that sounds like a plan... I also want to know about those cases where my help was essential and in the end they were just an excuse to see me.  
Mycroft smiled as he left the office.  
\- Looks like it's going to be a long night...  
Greg followed him, unable to hide his happiness even though his life depended on it. He closed the door behind him, taking a brief look at the already cold cup of coffee on the table. Thinking that this was undoubtedly the best coffee of his life, the one he hadn't even tasted.


End file.
